


Uncharted

by Quantummagician



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self Harm, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:19:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quantummagician/pseuds/Quantummagician
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern!AU, Dorian's escaped from Tevinter and starting a new life in Val Royeaux and is working at a coffee shop. Co-workers/regular customers are Inquisition members and inquisitor himself. Expect dealing with Dorian's dad, various sideplots/slice of life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first actual fic I've ever written to be completely honest. Also my first time using this site to post fanfic. Sorry if this gets confusing or the writing is bad, but I promise I'll try and make this as good as possible as time goes on.

Dorian darted down the alleyway ahead of him, breath lost from his lungs a few blocks back. He had to get to the bus station. He checked his watch, only five minutes until the bus left. Head swimming with nervousness as he looked back, making sure he wasn’t followed. He had been planning this for weeks, timing it exactly until it was the night of his engagement party to leave. It was a rude thing to do to Livia, the woman he was betrothed to, but, to be fair, the relationship would have gone sour even if he was attracted to her in the first place. 

The bus station was coming into view, so many years of torment, abuse, violence, all of it done and over with. A new life with hopefully a nicer home, friends, maybe even love for once in his life. However, something grabbed his ankle and he kissed dirt in a fraction of a second. The bus station a good ten meters away. He landed on his head but was still conscious, wind knocked out of him, dazed, and confused. A leg kicked him in the gut a few times, rolling him over onto his back. Dorian opened his eyes to see the assailant who had tripped him, only to see his father.

Dorian could only struggle under the hold his father had on him, realizing he was done for as his father looked upon him, a deep look of disappointment in his eyes.

“I should have done this sooner, you’ll thank me for this, my son.”

Dorian watched as the dagger came down and almost plunged into his chest but opened his eyes to his dark apartment. He was shaking and covered in a cold sweat, almost on the verge of screaming. His hands grabbed onto his blanket and held it tight against his body, reminding himself in hushed whispers that he was safe, that he was okay. 

He sighed and sat up on his mattress and looked around the one-room apartment. It wasn’t much, a small pile of clothes, some books on political theory he was enthralled with at the time, magic he still was working on perfecting, and a few other essentials he grabbed quickly and brought along with him at the time of his escape.

It felt like ages since he fled his father’s home, but it was only a few mere months since his escape. Dorian sighed, realizing his breathing was back to normal. His mind pained for alcohol but he knew it wouldn’t do him any good. He was trying to fully restart his life, but he knew how tempting it would be to quell his nerves, to help him go back to sleep, to just forget a little while longer.

Fortunately, Josephine, one of the first people he met after he arrived where he was and one of his only friends, had found out about his alcoholism and not only cleared out his mini-fridge of any alcohol, but also gave him her number for personal matters if he ever needed it. The light from the phone blinded him momentarily as he unlocked it. He took another deep breath, feeling foolish and selfish if he had to call her so late. 

He used the light from his phone to look around the room in the night, trying to remind himself that things were different now. Things were going to get better, it would take time, but he was Dorian Pavus, one of the most powerful and handsome mages in Tevinter, surely it wouldn’t be long before he could find his calling in somewhere such as Val Royeaux. 

He lied back down, still propped up enough to see the moon. It had been a long time since the moon had been in that position. It brought him back to younger days, when he would sneak out into the gardens and just sit and read, sometimes have a quick rendezvous with a man he had met at a party or in passing previously that day.

Dorian smiled at the memory, but it left a dull ache, different than the one he had felt when he first woke up. It held a tinge of happiness of days gone by, and surely he’d be able to have that here, but...perhaps more since he wasn’t plagued with his father’s presence and his previous expectations he had to fulfill. Perhaps...he could fully be himself, be foolish with another man and not worry about what could happen. Although he didn’t entirely have the nicer home he wished for the day he left, nor the love, although he somewhat had the friends he wished for. It had only been a few months, and who knew? Luck could come his way soon.

Dorian looked back at his phone, realizing he had work later that day. He groaned in protest, but sighed and rolled over, still facing the window, moon in eyesight until sleep slowly overcame him.


	2. Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction of Inquisitor, some major/minor characters, more people will come into the store as time goes on, however this was all I could think of so far for this chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Introducing more characters to the fic, however not all the characters. Sorry about the late update, it's been kinda hectic with work and stuff! But I tried and this is what I got, I hope you enjoy!

Dorian straightened his shirt as he walked into the coffee shop, still only half awake. He was able to get enough sleep to be functional, but despite the cold shower and running to not miss his bus, sleep still plagued him. 

Sera, the new barista, was preparing her station, and both Cassandra and Cullen, two of the shift managers were there, making sure the baked goods and other ingredients were in order.

“Good morning,” he yawned as he passed by Josephine, the general manager, as he clocked in.

“Ah, Dorian, good to see you,” she replied in her dulcet voice, “we have a new worker today, I assume you can help teach him the ropes, yes?” 

“I...guess….” he trailed off, having only worked there for a little over a month, still learning the ropes himself.

“Good.”

As soon as she replied, the door opened once more, and in the doorway, a rather small elf with long, shoulder-length hair walked in, dark tattoos decorated his face.

“Ah, Ptolemy, glad to see you.” Josephine replied, “this is Dorian, he’ll help you out with training today.

Dorian looked at Ptolemy with disgust. He turned back towards the bottles of flavorings behind the counter, “you must be joking. A dalish elf? I have to work with an--”

Josephine cleared her throat and grinned, “sorry, Ptolemy, if you’ll excuse Mr. Pavus and I.”

Dorian cringed as she called him that, and dragged him by his ear to the back room. 

“But, you can’t be serious, he’s a dalish elf! Vile, thieving, pompous dalish elf!” 

“Look. I know how the Tevinters, you included, view the dalish, but I need you to be...polite, you might learn something.”

“I am not working with some disgusting tattooed freak.”

“Dorian.” Josephine replied, her silky voice taut with a more commanding undertone. “Be polite. You will learn something. It’s a new life for you, okay? Sera is one of your friends, is she not? You two get along very well from what I can see, as much as you, someone as distinguished as yourself would want to let on. Also, you and Ptolemy are the only ones working full time. Even if you don’t want to, you’ll have to. Do I make myself clear?”

He sighed, knowing that she was right, as she had been in the past.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

“Okay. Just...don’t call me Mr. Pavus. Bad taste in the mouth.”

“Ah, yes, my apologies.” She replied, realizing she had been told that before, “we open shortly. Try and make friends, okay?” Her tone had relaxed as she walked out, patting Dorian on his shoulder as she left. “Ah, before I forget, here’s your coffee and bagel, get your Monday game face on, we open soon. You can do this.”

He following behind her and turned the corner and walked down to where Ptolemy was and quickly scarfed down his bagel, hungrier than he realized. 

“Sorry about that,” he replied, sipping his coffee, realizing that he easily made an ass out of himself in front of Josephine and his new coworker. He adjusted his name tag and smiled, “I didn’t quite catch your name.”

“You can call me Lavellan,” he replied, adjusting his dark green sweater.

“Okay, we’re open!” Sera called, flicking on the large neon sign and unlocking the front door.

“Think you’re ready?” Dorian asked, heading up to the register and grabbing an apron, tying it as he looked over at Lavellan.

“Only one way to find out, I suppose.”

Dorian nodded silently and waited for people to come in. He studied Lavellan a little more closely, moving his eyes down from the oversized sweater that reached his knees, to the tattered pants that showed his tattoos that seemed to reach past his face for certain. After Dorian reached past the pants he realized something was off.

He walked over to Cullen, as Josephine was busy in her office, as per usual as she had been trying to figure out another fruitful gimmick to get more people into the shop.

“You do realize that Lavellan...has no shoes, yes?” He asked

“Ah, so he doesn’t. Josephine mentioned you could help him with that, as you...how do I put this?” Cullen replied

“Have a way with clothes.” Cassandra cut in, “and since Josephine is currently busy, you’re the de facto leader on that quest. Unless of course you’d want Sera to help with that sort of thing.”

Dorian cringed. Cassandra had a way with her humor, that was for certain.

“Fine, I’ll do something about it,” he muttered, turning his head as the bell on the door was ringing and the door hit the frame as it closed. Solas, one of the regulars, had arrived.

“Ah, Dorian, so good to see you,” he chimed as usual.

“Good to see you too, Solas.” Dorian smiled, wanting to bash the man’s smug face into the register, as usual. How can anyone be this cheery, even on a Monday? But to be fair, he had a job at a library, the kind of job he’d kill for at the moment. “The usual I take it?” 

“Yes, thank you.” Solas smiled, “you know, my offer still stands, Dorian. I can show you the mysteries of the fade, the ever encompassing wonder, since you don’t have a teacher due to you being an apostate and all, I could offer--” He paused, looking at Lavellan. 

“Ah, you’re new. My name is Solas, and you must be...probably not a mage.”

“Lavellan.” He replied, unimpressed

Dorian looked between the two, Solas wasn’t picking up that the new guy was a bit...temperamental at the moment.

“I can tell you’re not a mage and your face is covered with those vile tattoos. An old tradition slavers would use to brand elves. I can remove them if you want.”

“No, thank you.”

“Ah, but you see, you could skin as clear, clean, and...pure as my face.” He said, stroking his chin, his whiter skin clearly contrasting with Lavellan’s, and Sera’s for that matter, darker complexion.

“I already do, on my ass.” Lavellan muttered, loud enough for Dorian to hear.

Dorian’s eyes widened as he heard this and continued to make the coffee that Solas needed in the morning, trying not to laugh at what he overheard.

“Ah, what a shame, perhaps you will see the error of your ways.”

“Here’s your drink, Solas. Enjoy your day.” Dorian grinned, having let Sera draw another phallus in his coffee with creamer before handing over the coffee as Solas gave Lavellan the money.

“Keep the change.” He said, walking away.

Dorian turned to Lavellan, somewhat in disbelief but also trying to hold back a cackle. 

The door opened again, Mother Giselle walked in, dropping off her copies of The Weekly Chant, the chantry-centric zine that Josephine allowed to be sold in the shop as it helped bring in more customers.

“Good morning, Dorian, how are you?” She greeted in her thick Orlesian accent

“Just fine, Mother Giselle, let me get your usual.” He said, glancing over at Sera as she grabbed the scone while he whipped up the tea she always got on Mondays.

“Ah, and I see you have a new worker today. Tell me child, has the light of Andraste reached your threshold?” She asked as Lavellan was ringing up her order.

“No, but some of my family has, I mean, those who haven’t been slaughtered by the chantry missionaries I mean.” He replied, smiling non-chalantly, taking the scone Sera passed him and placed it next to the tea Dorian had put on the counter. “Would you like a bag for your order?” 

Mother Giselle paid for the order and walked away, feigning her usual regal face in an attempt to hide her look of disgust. 

“So…” Dorian walked up to Lavellan, overhearing the other comment as well. “Albeit you are impressive with these...clever retorts...do you need any food to help combat your short fuse?”

“Don’t use that term to describe me. Ever.” Lavellan replied shortly.

“...You mean..clever?” Dorian asked, “because your retorts have been nothing short of brilliant and I realize I-”

“Short. Don’t call me short. Ever.”

“Oh.” Dorian blinked, realizing that Lavellan did only come up to about his chest. 

“Yeah. Also, apology accepted.”

“Thanks.” Dorian replied as the front door opened again. “Ah! Vivienne!” He called, surprised to see the first enchantress this early in the morning, especially on a Monday.

“Dorian, how good to see you.” She replied, lifting up her sunglasses and resting them upon her forehead, “any luck over the weekend?” She asked, wondering what escapades Dorian had gotten himself into.

“Not really, just...been thinking. Everything is settling in I think, just...the reality of the situation and all, y’know?” He sighed, “also still dry over here so it’s a slow march through emotions, but they’re getting dealt with. Slowly.”

“Glad to hear that you’re doing better, but I was talking about any men that have your fancy.” Vivienne replied. “I think you actually having a boyfriend for once could do you some good. Also to help blow off some steam from wallowing in your thoughts. I can’t say I’m guilty of using men’s wiles and charm to help get myself through a funk.”

“Ah, yes, let me call up my suitors who clearly wish to court a self-exiled Tevinter from the esteemed house Pavus who no doubt has been disowned by his own father no doubt.”  
With that, the door opened once more, a man with a brown undercut came in. The man was a little shorter than Vivienne, but wearing black jogging shorts and a matching tank top. The man’s skin tone was almost, if not identical to Dorian’s own skin tone. Vivienne quirked an eyebrow and tilted her head as she noticed him walk in.

“Excuse me, ma’am, are you in line?” He asked as he got to the counter. 

“No, I am not.” She let the jogger go ahead of her and tried to see if Dorian was interested.

“Hello, what can I get for you?” Lavellan asked.

“I think I’ll just take two coffees. Three creams, four sugars. Also, a blueberry muffin. To go, please.” He replied

Lavellan walked off to start the order whilst Dorian filled it out on the register, ringing up the order. The strange man got his drink and walked out.

“Peculiar.” Dorian commented, “why would one get coffee and food while you’re out on a morning run?”

“Maybe he’s late to his job at some firm, or trying to keep fit, or both?” Vivienne suggested.

“Yeah,” Lavellan sighed whilst smiling, “maybe.”

“Look, I don’t think he’s my type. And even if he was, I don’t know who he is, or if he’s interested in me.”

“Well, your friend here might be his type,” she commented, looking at his choice of clothes, noticing the tawny over sized sweater. “However, we might need to go shopping soon, if you are to impress him and maybe some other people you might like.”

“Really? You’d do that for me?”

“Well, you seem...sweet. I remember when I was like that back in the circle.”

“You do realize he insulted Solas and Mother Giselle, yes?” Dorian added

“Ah, even better.”

Dorian chuckled, “yes. Just…” he focused back on Lavellan, “make sure you don’t let your sh-I mean...um fiery temper get the best of you while you’re working.”

“Also, can I have my usual, Dorian?” Vivienne asked

“Sure, just a moment.”

“Thank you again,” she said, handing over the money whilst she grabbed her bagel and coffee. “See you again on Friday, Dorian. And I didn’t quite catch your name?”

“Lavellan.”

“Ah, yes, Lavellan. I hope we can meet too, can’t go shopping without you. Well, I best be going, hope to see you soon.”

The hours dragged on like days after the morning rush left and the afternoon stragglers came in in subtle waves, keeping the crew busy just enough that they weren’t entirely bored. Dorian sighed as it was his time to leave. He went to the back and crumpled up his apron and threw it in the discard laundry bag. Josephine was working diligently and what Vivienne had said today had him thinking for most of the day.

“Josephine, do you, um...think me dating would be a good thing?”

“Well, Dorian, I feel that dating might help you with opening up, but it in no way means a fix-all for your problems.”

“Oh, well, thanks.”

Josephine turned around from her desk. “If you want help finding one, I can offer a few contacts, and I’m sure some members of the crew could offer suggestions.”

“No, I think I need to mull it over, but thank you.”

“Alright. See you tomorrow, Dorian.”

Dorian walked out, exhausted from the day and hating himself that he had four more shifts like this to go for the week. He plopped himself onto a bench for a few minutes before the bus arrived.

He walked on, still thinking about whether or not dating would be worth it or not. He remembered those nights sneaking off to the gardens and into his chambers late at night with various men from many walks of life, only spending a few nights, if anything, with them before parting ways as sexual partners.

Dorian sat near the back, away from the aisles so he could look out at the city while the bus navigated its streets. It seemed nice, with the snow melting slowly but surely. Spring was coming and it was only a matter of time. He looked back inside the bus, a few rows ahead of him, there was a couple, the smaller resting on the shoulder of the bigger. Dorian could feel his chest ache somewhat, remembering some of the times there was emotional intimacy after the physical. How nice it felt to be feel protected, to be able to tell just a few how awful his father was without criticism, without anyone else knowing, without being yelled at or hit. 

He sighed at the thought and almost missed his stop. Dorian grabbed his bag and got off the bus, walking past a few of the buildings before turning into his apartment complex. He walked inside and waited for the elevator like usual, only to be a bit disgusted by another couple making out in it. He had to keep a mental note to not do such...frivolous things in public.

Dorian side stepped the couple and waited for the lift to take him up the few flights of stairs he could have taken and avoided the whole fiasco, but alas. The doors opened and he walked to the end of the hallway, sighing as he unlocked the door.

He tossed his bag against the wall and plopped himself down on his mattress. Maybe Vivienne was right. Maybe actually dating for once would be a good thing. If anything to help ease the pain in his chest and stomach.


End file.
